Little Unwell
by CapAleran2
Summary: [AU/Crossover] No one knew Derek had a younger brother until he shows up at the hospital. When TC comes back stateside and drags his friends with him, it inadvertently creates problems for the hospital's staff, the current and the new, from soldiers to civilians. The Night Shift comes to Grey's Anatomy.
1. Chapter 1

**Little Unwell**

Crossover: Grey's Anatomy/The Night Shift

 **[AU Crossover]** No one knew Derek had a younger brother until he shows up at the hospital. When TC comes back stateside and drags his friends with him, it inadvertently creates problems for the hospital's staff, the current and the new, from soldiers to civilians. The Night Shift comes to Grey's Anatomy.

* * *

 _"Dr. Derek Shepherd to the ER, Dr. Derek Shepherd to the ER"._

He heard the overhead page but chose to keep his feet planted behind the glass wall of the catwalk, his hands bracing on the railing. Crisp blue eyes gazed listlessly out the full-length window across from him to watch the sun set on the Seattle horizon.

Losing one was still hard. He should have tried harder. Should have thought of something else, another way to look at the problem for a better solution. His gaze dropped to his dark blue scrubs and shook his head once. The vibration of his black pager went off again in addition to the all-call system.

He pushed off the railing to head downstairs. The ER would inevitably have a serious injury needing his attention. As his wife would say, life's a carousel; it never stops to let you off.

Entering the hall that led to the pit, Derek saw a few of his colleagues working on a patient lying on a gurney. Lines were already attached to the skin, the monitors alive with steady beeps. He assumed his game face despite his shift's latest loss. "Alright, what'd you got?"

"Male, mid-thirties, hit a pole on highway 3 at 55 miles per hour. BP is stable. For now," Meredith snapped as she cleaned a deep gash in the man's temple. Dark blood still seeped from the wound, swelling already setting in.

"Was he brought in alone?"

"Yea."

Without thinking about what his body was doing, Derek quickly shoved his hands into the blue gloves and pulled the light pen from his white lab coat, opening the patient's eyes to shine the light. The brown irises were clear, but the black holes in their centers were slow to react, however they were responding. "Call up and get a head CT. Anyone know how his head took the hit?"

"Yea, Doc," a sarcastic, deep voice stated. "The car stopped but his head didn't. I thought they taught you that in med school."

Derek's breath hitched only for a moment at the familiar, yet distant voice. It had been at least four years since he had last heard it. He glanced up from leaning over the patient's head to where he heard it, his eyes laying claim to a tall, dark-haired man standing with his feet planted the same width as his wide shoulders.

A soldier's stance.

He straightened, his voice flat with a hint of surprise. "What are you doing here?"

The man wore wrangler jeans that stuck to his thin yet muscular frame. Brown cowboy boots graced his feet and a green t-shirt covered the rest. A lazy smirk appeared on the unshaven jaw. "Ahh, come on, that's no way to greet your-"

"TC, get out."

"-long lost brother."

Meredith's hands faltered and the nurse across from her both exchanged glances then gazed to both men. Derek took the clipboard with the patient's status information they had been able to gather. His eyes had turned hard and he refused to look up as he wrote.

Listening to the steady beeps of the monitor and the silence that filled the rest of the room, Meredith's eyes searched. "What-"

Christina stopped by the open doorway, slightly pushing TC out of the way with her news. "Bus crash with injuries, ten minutes out. EMTs are bringing four here. All children. April's gonna need some hands."

She frowned, giving the back of TC a look up and down before she turned to leave.

"Ok," Derek broke the remaining silence, keeping his voice upbeat. "Admit him and call his family. It doesn't look horrible, but could potentially become serious. His pupils are dilating, but not as fast as I'd like. Push ten of mannitol and page me when the scans come in."

He caught the look Meredith tossed his way. The look that meant the conversation isn't over. He had seen that in her eyes many times since beginning his job at the hospital.

Leaving the room, Derek looked at TC as he passed through the entry. "What are you doing here," He asked again, though it was more of a statement.

TC followed him, his boots clacking on the floor. "I've been home for a few months. Tried life as an EMT, but it doesn't cut it."

"You brought him in?" Derek asked and pointed to the room they had exited.

"Witnessed the accident on my bike," TC replied. "I was already on my way here."

Picking up a yellow trauma gown off the supply cart, Derek shook his head. "Dammit, TC. You've been back for how long and can't even man up to tell mom?"

TC frowned as he spoke and watched him tie the tie strings at his neck. He let the last part of his statement slide. The neurosurgeon wouldn't understand what it was like. What he had had to deal with on a daily basis. "I will. I've just needed time to adjust."

"Go adjust somewhere else. Not here."

"I need a job."

Derek tried to ignore his younger brother as he trailed relentlessly behind him as he made his way through the ER unloading bay. "When you do, call mom."

"Derek," TC touched his arm as they halted at the sliding doors. "Please. I need a job where I can be me."

His older brother stared into his green ones. TC was hurting. It may not be physically, but emotionally -maybe mentally- there were scars that still needed healing. A job fixing other people may not be the answer he was searching for. He needed to fix himself first.

"I can't-"

"Then who can? I can do this, I just need the opportunity, the benefit of the doubt here. I've been through worse."

Taking a deep breath, Derek was aware his fellow doctors were filling the entryway and were giving TC strange looks. No one said anything. Some inches taller than Derek and broader shouldered, the stranger looked very similar to their head neurosurgeon: dark hair, strong jaw, clear eyes and a smile that could drop a few female staff members to the ground.

"Hunt. Dr. Owen Hunt. He's the chief," Derek sighed. "He's a background similar to yours. You may get in with him."

TC tightly squeezed his brother's shoulder as his lips turned up into a smile. "Thank you, brother."

And Derek knew two things in that moment. One, that the doctors crowding the doors waiting on the Ambulance now knew that he not only had a younger brother but that he had neglected to tell anyone about him. Cristina had heard every word as she arrived unusually late to the party.

Two, his brother would soon likely join the medical staff at Seattle Grace.


	2. Chapter 2

**Little Unwell**

Crossover: Grey's Anatomy/The Night Shift

 **[AU Crossover]** No one knew Derek had a younger brother until he shows up at the hospital. When TC comes back stateside and drags his friends with him, it inadvertently creates problems for the hospital's staff, the current and the new, from soldiers to civilians. The Night Shift comes to Grey's Anatomy.

* * *

TC took a step back and watched as Derek stepped towards the EMT rolling the gurney to the doors, exchanging stats as they entered the building. Not knowing what else to do, he followed behind them.

His senses were trained on the noise, on what to do first in succession. Green orbs searched around the ER. There must be something he could do to help. The scene around him was familiar, the bustle, the controlled chaos. Everything within touch and sight was clean, smelled of disinfectant. It was the perfect place to treat patients.

He had learned the trade in completely different circumstances.

"Sir, you can't be here." A voice broke him out of his trance.

The voice belonged to a man with a yellow trauma gown draped over his scrubs. "Sir, I need to leave and go to the waiting area"

TC opened his mouth, not caring a few of the employees were staring, and ignoring the hand that gripped his arm. "I'm a doctor. Let me help."

Hunt's mouth closed in surprise, doing his best not to give the man a once-over; he didn't seem the doctor type. "What's your name?"

"TC Callahan."

"Where'd you study?"

A nurse quickly walked past, jarring Hunt's arm with a fleeting apology. Before he could get an answer, another trauma rolled by with a screaming child. The doctors attending were trying their best to calm the little boy until his parents arrived, but it added to the noise that was the pit. Hunt looked expectedly at TC.

He looked him in the eye. "The Army."

In an instant, certain memories of his past flashed in Hunt's mind. The simple answer was a powerful one. A look that TC understood replaced the question that had been present. Hunt nodded once.

"Dr. Owen Hunt. I served myself, Iraq." He said, opting to keep to himself as he wore sterile gloves.

"Afghanistan.

Hunt gave his signature smirk. "Alright. We'll see how you handle," his voice then rose so the people in his vicinity could hear and he pointed. "Dr. TC Callahan has Doctor's Privileges tonight!"

"Thank you, Sir."

With that Owen slapped his shoulder and pointed him in the direction of the trauma supply carts. He received some curious glances with his proclamation, but Hunt ignored it. There was a reason TC didn't look like a doctor; he was a soldier. And there was a code of honor the military instilled in its men.

TC hurried to grab a yellow gown and swiftly went off in search of a patient. He rounded the corner of the ER main desk and ran into the same woman who had bumped into him earlier. She held a clipboard in one hand and slanted brown eyes shot up to him.

"Hey! Watch it, Privileged," she snapped. The clipboard she set in its tray and she continued to ignore him, tearing her eyes away to see paramedics pushing a stretcher with an injured child strapped to it. "I got it! It's mine!"

TC turned with her as he took command of the oncoming patient. He knew she was a force with which to be reckoned. The air around where the woman had been standing was left cold. An almost negative effect. "So much for a warm welcome…" he muttered to himself.

Quite the opposite from what he'd been used to. Yet oddly similar.

 _He clutched his AR tighter in his gloved hands as he walked along, the familiar heavy weapon settling comfortably against his kevlar vest. The dust and heat were getting to him. They were getting to everyone. A hundred pounds of gear did nothing to help the soldiers stay cool._

 _"Is it just me, or does it always seem like we're in an old sepia photo?"_

 _Chuckling, TC kicked a dirt chunk in his path. It exploded against his boot, yellow dirt scattering. He turned to Topher. "Or one of those westerns."_

 _"Everything is a yellow-brown. And I can't fuckin' breathe from all the sand in the air." A voice behind them said. There were crackling sounds as the ground crunched beneath their boots. They were out in the open. A single crumbling, yellow wall that ran along the right side of them divided the field._

 _"We all can't breathe," TC pulled the black bandana from his nose. The bridge of his nose upwards was caked in dirt and sunglasses protected his eyes. "You just get used to it after a while."_

 _He squinted as he paused to gaze up the path. It was silent. It had been all morning. He felt his skin tingle under the layers of desert fatigue and armor. A drop of sweat trickled from his temple to mix at the strap by his chin. Aside from his comrades' quiet talking, nothing else made a sound. There wasn't even a bird in the air._

 _TC had learned to listen to nature as well as his own gut. It could have been that the birds and other small animals were wary of them as they made their way across the field. He pulled the bandana up on his nose and started onward._

 _A loud string of distant gunfire blazed up on their right. The men dropped to the ground, using the wall as cover. "Where did that come from?!" Topher called out. He glanced at the man behind him before turning to TC, who was aiming over the wall returning fire._

 _He ducked down. "I was getting a feeling."_

 _Topher rose up and quickly fired his AR across the field along with the other men with them. "A few Bogeys to the north."_

 _"They weren't there when we entered," TC adjusted his aim and squeezed the trigger, releasing three rounds with loud pops. The air around them briefly settled before another round of firecracker-like bursts erupted. A hot bullet passed close to his helmet, buzzing as it barely missed the side of his head. "Motherfucker…"_

 _"Patrol Two, this is One. We're taking some heat from the north, over." Topher's clear voice rose into the radio. He waited for a reply and pressed his back against the wall as the men on either side of him returned fire with three or five round bursts._

He could still hear the gunfire in his ears, the shouts, and scuffles. Like a random ring in one ear, it left him in a shallow haze. It paralyzed him for a split second. And then the ringing was gone. He was able to move, unpinned from his stance. In one fluid motion, TC strode forward and laid claim to a gurney heading his way.

The paramedic caught his eye. He began to relay the patient's stats to him and handed him a clipboard with everything the man had written down in the Ambulance. Once TC took over control of the gurney, he smiled at the frightened child as he guided it to an open exam curtain.

"My name is TC and I'll be your doctor."


End file.
